


Permission

by MyrddinDerwydd



Series: Rhyver Shepard [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien/Human Relationships, Consent, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Relationship, Subvocals, Translator Issues, Turians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrddinDerwydd/pseuds/MyrddinDerwydd
Summary: Shepard has nightmares after the Prothean beacon and Garrus is her anchor - even at night. That doesn't mean that she knows much about turians, even if she trusts this reckless, toothy, grey c-sec officer with her life and sanity. Set pre-relationship in Mass Effect 1.
Relationships: Female Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: Rhyver Shepard [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1254578
Comments: 9
Kudos: 50





	Permission

She pressed her lips into a tight line, driving her irritation inward, and slowly withdrew her hand without touching him. 

“Vakarian, please look at me,” Shepard said quietly.

Icy blue eyes snapped to hers, and she saw a slight tremor run through him. It only served to emphasize how tense he was. 

“I said it was fine, Commander.” Garrus's voice was pitched low and perfectly even, without a hint of emotion.

“And you clearly don't mean it. You aren't comfortable with me touching your fringe.”

“It's not that--” His controlled facade broke in an instant. “Look, you asked to touch it. End of story.” Garrus angled his head toward her. “It's fine. Just, it's fine, Shepard.”

She lay her hand lightly on his forearm instead. “Garrus, don't ever allow me to do something personal,” she emphasized the word, “just because I'm your commanding officer.” 

“That is not why--” he growled, shook his head. “You’re curious. You asked. It’s fine,” Garrus snapped out short, clipped sentences.

“I’m not going to take advantage of a cultural misunderstanding!” She’d only first set foot on the Citadel a few months ago - this could go on her long list of awkward incidents.

“Spirits Shepard, how do I explain this?” Garrus rubbed at the back of his neck again, and with a human she would assume anxiety and maybe embarrassment, but this interspecies debacle was throwing everything in doubt. 

“I can’t-- hmm.” He kept interrupting himself, and she realized that the high-pitched whining sound she heard was actually getting louder. “Another turian would read a hundred different things from me right now Shepard, and I don’t know how to--” The half-choked sound that he made sounded more like a snort than a chuckle, but at least she recognized it for what it was. 

“Hmm.” Garrus started again, angling his head away from her but not really… looking away, she noticed. “Let me try explaining one thing, and depending on just _how horribly wrong_ ,” his voice trilled dramatically as he stretched out the words, “it goes, we can… well. Yeah.” 

Shepard nodded sharply, rolling her shoulders back and actively giving Garrus her full attention, ignoring the odd mix of low rumbling and whining that the Normandy seemed to be making at the moment. Joker or Tali would contact her if there was an actual problem, and it seemed a bad idea to interrupt Garrus now that he was being semi-coherent again.

“Turians use non-verbal communication extensively. It’s more than just body language, it’s also the _canticum cordis in anima tua,_ and _odorem communicationis tersonalis._ ” 

The translation program for her omni-tool seemed to glitch, because she actively heard a long string of words in the turian language that simply translated to _“subvocal sounds and scent.”_

“I’m not sure my translator caught all of that,” she said, forehead furrowing in concern. “Subvocal sounds and scent?”

The whine stopped abruptly, and she blinked.

“Damn, that… loses a lot. _Canticum cordis in anima tua_ is ‘subvocal sounds’ only in that most of the sounds are completely outside the hearing range of other species, and the sounds are within, or beneath my speaking voice.”

“Wait, is all of this you?!” Shepard exclaimed. “All of these extra sounds that stop and start, and constantly change are YOU?” She dropped her head sideways to rest in her hand, elbow on one knee. The low rumble that she heard so frequently clearly increased in volume just then, confirming her thoughts. “It’s not just the double-tones? The extra rumbling layer in your voice?”

Garrus laughed, mandibles flaring widely in a grin and showing his sharp, predatory teeth. She remembered just how unsettling it was the first time he did that - Garrus was the first turian she ever saw laugh. He already had a great voice, deep and warm, with a confident edge most of the time; The sort of voice that caught your attention from across a room and made you think twice about doubting him. But when he laughed, it made your heart grin with him. 

She heard it then, as he sat there laughing in her cabin. Of course she knew there was more she couldn’t possibly hear, but now that she knew to listen… Garrus laughed and that warm rumble of his subvocals exploded into a ripple of chords on the edge of her awareness. It was only when they faded that she realized with a start that she was staring intently at the turian’s broad chest. It was a chest she’d slept against several times, never questioning the smooth rumble of his breath. 

He was staring back at her, sharp blue eyes questioning as they met hers. “Do we miss out on half of what you say?” Shepard blurted. 

“Probably not half. Well, not just with that anyway. If you add all of the physical and scent cues that another turian would get, then maybe.” His tone seemed gently mocking, but serious. “Humans definitely miss the majority of what is being communicated,” Garrus emphasized, “even if they hear what we say.” 

“So what does it- they- the _canticum cordis_ sounds, mean?”

“Emotions. I can tell you from working C-sec, most humans think turians are terse bastards that are hard to read. Those of us who’ve been on the Citadel for a while are better than average about being expressive in ways that other species understand.” He shook his head, flicking his talons sharply in a dismissive-looking gesture she didn’t know how to interpret. “Turians don’t often talk about our emotions because they’re usually hard to hide! The sound of our _canticum cordis in anima tua_ isn't easy to suppress, Shepard.” 

“But you don’t get that with other species, like humans.” Shepard’s shoulders sagged slightly. “You can’t hear the sound of my-- my whatever,” she stammered agitatedly, “and it makes you uncomfortable doesn’t it?” 

“Wait, no that’s not it. Well, it is - but there’s more to it.” 

Garrus smoothed the air between them in a placating gesture, and her eyes caught on the worn silver scars criss-crossing the plated backs of his bare hands. She settled her shoulders back, facing the strange interpersonal situation with resolve. They were probably back to her having offended Garrus somehow, missing out on an entire world of context for nearly a month.

“Shepard, being raised in any culture means you know social and physical cues for the people around you. Turians rely on that. A lot,” Garrus emphasized with a snort of a chuckle. He fidgeted, flicking his talons together with an audible snick. “Relationships and rank are understood without words, your intent is almost always clear. We’re not really a deceptive people.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him...and then rocked back, stunned to realize how much she expected him to understand from such an obscure, tiny bit of body language. He did - Garrus knew her well and had spent years on the Citadel, unlike herself, but his point was made. 

“Saren’s an exception,” he admitted with a disgusted flick of his mandibles. “Every society has traitors.”

Shepard flipped one hand dismissively. 

“I did something offensive, or missed a cue that upset you, didn’t I? Please let me fix it, Garrus, I’m not losing you over a simple misunderstanding.” 

Hyper-aware of sounds and bits of body language at the moment, she noticed that he had tilted his head the same way as earlier - not quite looking away, angling his head and neck toward her. Was that submissive? Flirtatious? Embarrassed? 

A silence stretched out between them. 

Garrus’s voices were quiet except for the return of the uncomfortable whining pitch. He slowly ran the talon of his thumb across the long lines of his opposite hand, pale characters flickering across his visor as he searched her eyes. 

“Hmm,” Garrus started, shifting to face her directly. “Shepard, I don’t know what we are. What you are - to me. Am I one of your soldiers, helping the commander with a tough situation? Two weary warriors, blowing off steam in bed?” He shook his head side to side in an oddly circular gesture. “We share each other’s space, but we’re not lovers or siblings. Spirits, you touch me with your naked hands and I let you, but then you turn away because you don’t know how much it means--” The words were a stream, a flooding torrent. “You don’t fit, Shepard! I can’t see where we stand, or hear what you want me to do--”

Shepard darted her hand out and caught his broad, restless fingers in her own. Garrus’s voice caught sharply, followed by a deep thrill of a chord that sank into silence, or to sounds below her hearing.

“My turn,” she said simply. “You are an incredible fighter and partner on the battlefield. I’ve only known you a few short weeks, but there are very few people I’d rather have by my side. That doesn’t change when we leave the fight, Garrus.” She leaned forward, catching his gaze and holding it. “Dr. Chakwas would not have sent any of ‘my soldiers’ in here that night to help me deal with the Prothean nightmares. If I’m not mistaken, she sent in a friend - and a damn good one at that.” 

“I’ve got your back Shepard, always.” Garrus flicked his mandibles uncertainly. “But I, uhh… Do human friends regularly sleep together like this?” 

“It varies. Garrus, I’ve never been particularly free with sharing my body, but I’m not playing innocent either. This level of… physical intimacy?” Shepard shot him a quick grin, cheeks heating. “That’s a lot. We got thrown into it because of how you reacted to my nightmares, but it’s never felt wrong to me. Is it different for you? Would this be inappropriate between turians?” 

“Hmm. More complicated than that.” Garrus must have read her concern, because he gently squeezed her hand. “Any hide contact - uhh, skin contact - is intimate. Seeking physical comfort, releasing tension by having sex with a friend or fellow soldier is normal, especially in chaos like this.” His _cantica_ rumbled into her hearing, rising and falling smoothly. “But that’s all it is. Everyone knows where they stand, Shepard. It’s intense and good, and you go back to whatever you were before. The protocol’s always the same - no one mistakes an invitation for sex as the start of a relationship, or just a friendly comment. With you…” He trailed off, shaking his head in that confused circle again. 

“Since when have we been limited by protocol?” She teased gently. 

He snorted a derisive chuckle. “Still. I’ve never been this close with anyone who wasn’t family or a girlfriend. That’s very few people, all turians.” The head tilt was back, exposing his neck. “And you’re neither, are you Shepard?” 

She shook her head no, watching his reaction. “No, and I’m missing signals right now, aren’t I? Does this--” she gestured at his neck, “mean something?” If he was actually propositioning her for sex, she wasn’t quite sure how to respond. 

Garrus froze a moment, clearly analyzing what he was doing, then laughed. “Damn, I do that instinctively. Couldn’t have pointed it out as something bothering me, but you’re right. It’s an invitation for a... casual embrace. The human equivalent is probably a ‘hug,’ but I don’t think you use the _odorem communicationis tersonalis_ nearly as much as turians do. Ignoring the offer is a clear statement that you aren’t comfortable sharing your space with the other turian.” 

It took an effort not to slide over and hug him right then, but she made it. “I see. And touching your fringe? What did that mean?”

“Ah.” He twitched his mandibles, smoothing his free hand overtop the long, slate grey spikes of his fringe. “Touching another’s fringe or the back of their head, especially hide to hide, is sexual. Deeply so. It’s an erogenous zone for turians.”

“So it seemed like a come-on, a sexual advance.” The corner of her mouth turned up in a wry smile.

“But you didn’t act like it was, yeah. I should have just said something, instead of going along with it.” 

“It led to this talk, so…” She shrugged. The low, warm rumble of his _‘canticum’_ was back. “I’m not interested in a sexual relationship with anyone right now. Where does that leave us?” 

“Shepard, I enjoy what we have, but I don’t know what it is, or what the rules are. Where are the lines? What are the expectations?” 

“I say the lines are wherever we want them to be, and right now the expectations are that I’m going to hug you.” Unarmored as they were, she could actually wrap her arms around the broad arc of his crest, and she scooted forward to pull him close. The fabric of his tunic was smooth under her hands, his startled breath a deep rumble against her chest. 

Garrus’s scent was utterly familiar to her, a cool touch of oiled metal with a musky undertone, and his breath on her neck was warm. With his mouth so close to her throat she understood why refusing an embrace indicated a lack of trust, and she was also careful not to touch the back of his neck.

He was right, she realized. It was always his body curved around hers, protecting and comforting her through the night. Any real relationship was reciprocal, and if the tight wrap of Garrus’s arms around her was any indication, the fierce young turian needed this hug. She stroked one hand comfortingly across his back and was rewarded with a high, joyful trill in his song. 

The sound of Garrus's _canticum cordis in anima tua_ rolled through Shepard’s body in a chorus of unrecognizable emotions as they both relaxed into the embrace of the best partner they had known in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Palaven Standard  
>  _canticum cordis in anima tua -_ literally: song in the soul of your heart  
>  _odorem communicationis tersonalis -_ literally: personal communication scent


End file.
